


Not Only You & Me

by lostlenore



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Canon Compliant, College Hockey, M/M, Multi, Superstition, Thanksgiving Dinner, Threesome - M/M/M, Trapped In A Closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-27 02:30:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2675588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostlenore/pseuds/lostlenore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dex gets superstitious. (Sort of)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Only You & Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bottleful](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottleful/gifts).



> Heartfelt thank-you's to Nogizu, for producing such a wonderful comic, to MJ for being a fantastic cheerleader and shameless enabler, and to Emu- who bravely requested 'anything at all' and gave me a chance to write this. I love you a million. The tweets and a few relevant quotes are taken from Bitty's twitter account. 
> 
> Title is from the Britney Spears' song Three.

 In retrospect, Dex thinks it's important to remember that the entire mess started with Nursey dropping a plate of pasta on a poor unsuspecting girl in the dining hall. Dex hands him a wad of napkins and continues to chirp him ruthlessly over garlic bread while Bitty mediates, though Nursey takes it all in stride. It's a talent Dex envies and loathes in equal measure. Really, Nursey's only tell that he'd publicly embarrassed himself was the spattering of marinara on his sleeve and the way he couldn't stop fiddling with the nasty paw thing clipped to his lanyard. 

"Dude, what is that thing," Dex asks, curiosity finally getting the better of him, "you're always stroking it, it's kinda creepin me out."

"This? It's a lucky rabbit's foot." 

Dex wrinkled his nose. "Gross."

"Nah bro it's lucky," Nursey swears with the faith of a true believer. "I've had it with me ever since I broke my arm Sophomore year, and I've never had an injury since."

"It's not...real, is it?" Dex says giving the lanyard the hairy eyeball. 

"Of course!" Nursey replies, which doesn't answer the question at all. "What about you bro, you got, like, a four leaf clover hidden on you somewhere?" He treats Dex to a speculative once-over. Dex tries to hide his blush and fails spectacularly. 

"Very funny, going for the Ginger joke. Very original. No, no clovers, and if you make a 'pot of" gold' joke I'm going to stab you with my fork."

The threat does nothing but roll right off Nursey's back. "Whatever man, I hear those things don't work anyways."

"I wouldn't know, I don’t really have any superstitions." Dex says, stuffing more pasta into his mouth. A couple guys on his high school team had lucky underwear but somehow he doesn't think that's what Nursey means. 

"Please. I bet you have at least one."    

Dex just shrugs, not sure why this is such a shock. "….I really don’t."

"I bet you have, like, eight." Dex narrowly avoids the temptation to stick his tongue out at him. Bitty's sitting right next to him listening even if he's pretending to type on his phone.     

Chowder sits down on Bitty's other side and Nursey catches him up to speed, which means there's no hope for escape now.

"Not even one, Dex?!" He actually _scoffs_ when Dex shakes his head. Dex is a little offended.  

"Thanks for your concern guys but I'm not really looking to pick up any weird new habits." 

"What do you mean 'weird new habits?' You’re a weird dude Dex, you do weird shit all the time. There’s no way you've been playing hockey for years and don’t already have one." 

Bitty ignores Dex's silent plea for intervention and keeps typing on his phone. 

"I told you, the thing about the flares and the cows isn't weird, it's-"

 “-Oooh so if Nursey and I prove you’re superstitious we win!" Chowder interrupts, smiling wide enough Dex can see the bits of pasta sauce stuck in his braces.  He grabs Dex's hand and holds it tight. The people around them in the cafeteria are watching with interest, and Dex curls in on himself a little, like if he wishes hard enough and hunches his shoulders a little, all the embarrassment will just fade away.     

 "Shit- win what?" He looks between Chowder's open, smiling face and Nursey's pitying one. [  
](http://bleacherreport.com/articles/1763583-the-10-weirdest-superstitions-of-nhl-players/page/6)

"Yo, I don’t even know bro but you shook on it." 

Shit. Samwell Hockey bylaws state that a handshake is 'pretty damn well binding'. 

Fucking goalies. 

**

 

Dex isn't so naive as to think that'll be the end of it. If there's one thing about Samwell that reminds Dex of home it's that his team lives in each other's pockets, and that whatever bet he may or may not have made with Nursey and Chowder could easily haunt him for the rest of the semester, coming back to bite him in the ass at the most inconvenient times. Chowder continues to sail right past all Dex's expectations though, which is why he should've been expecting the crumpled note that falls out of Chowder's CSS textbook during lab.

"Dude does that say 'elephant dung'?"  

Chowder makes a noise like a spooked cat and dives across the desk. "Arugh! How did you even get that?" 

"You're handwriting is terrible," Dex says, because it's true. and squints down at the paper some more. "And seriously, elephant dung? I'm from Pennsylvania, I don't even like the Islanders."

"I know that, that's why I crossed it off. Nursey said there was an unlikely probability, so I had to at least consider it. The East Coast is a strange, messed up place Dex." He's still making grabby hands at the paper and Dex folds it into a sloppy airplane to throw back at him. 

"That's why you don't listen to Nursey."

"Hey, Nursey's great- that thing about the Lake Quad benches? So true! You could save us a bunch of time though and just tell me so I can delete the spreadsheet."

"I told you, I don't have- wait, the _what?_ "

"Oh look, your monitor crashed," shouts Chowder and sprints to the bathroom in a tactical retreat when Dex stupidly turns to look. 

The professor doesn't even bat an eye, just keeps on helping one of the track dudes with a 'Fatal Error' screen. Dex is sure they've seen worse from the Samwell hockey team. He spares a minute to be thankful no mini-pies were involved.  

"I don't have any superstitions," Dex whispers to his monitors, who, like most of his teammates, don't listen to him, and goes back to rewriting his query list. 

** 

"What are you doing here?" 

The words are out of Dex's mouth before he can stop them, and Nursey glares at him over the box he's holding. It's been one of those weeks where they can't seem to stop pressing each other's buttons. Dex had been cool with Ransom's weird request to run out to the creepy old storage room on the other side of Faber because it had given him some space to cool off and try and get his head where it needed to be. That generally meant 'not around Nursey' because Nursey continued to be exceptionally talented at making Dex want to punch things. 

"Chill bro, Holster just asked me to grab some extra straps before the game." 

Dex frowns. "Really? That's strange, because Ransom just asked me the same-" The storage door slams closed behind them. There's the sound of a lock clicking into place. "-thing."

Nursey sighs, like it's a only a minor inconvenience to be locked in a storage room with Dex when they have a game to prep for in less than an hour.

"Probably because they think we're fighting,"

"Are we fighting?"

"Nah man, I leave what happens on the ice on the ice." He shrugs. Dex would be a good amount of money that he practices in front of the mirror every morning for maximum disaffection.  

Dex snorts. "Sure you do." To hear Nursey tell it he's never started a single argument, never needled Dex until he cracked, never screamed as loud or as hard as Dex. Like this, Nursey makes Dex's palms itch. Makes him want a proper fight. 

"You've got something you'd like to say to me bro? 'Cause it sounds like you have something to say." Nursey's got a spark in his eyes that makes Dex think he's angling for a fight too. 

"Nothing. Just can't believe you didn't check if the door locked from the outside before you came in." 

"Says the dude who was already in here. If it's anyone's fault bro, it's yours." Dex grits his teeth. 

"That's the same thing you said after the Princeton game, and it's bullshit. You let them split us way too easily-

"-While you were standing there giving them the puck every chance you got-"

"-Maybe I could've seen them if you hadn't been in the way!"

It's one of their more explosive fights. With no one there to break them up they just keep digging at each other, and everything's fair game; the irritating way Nursey says 'Chill bro,' the Samwell Republican sticker on Dex's laptop, things that seem insignificant, but add up over the months into something corrosive. 

Now they're nose to nose, shouting into each other's faces. Dex can feel Nursey radiating heat like a furnace, and his hands burn where he shoves Dex back- shoulder, chest, hip- and the skin where he's touched keeps burning even after he's taken his hands away.

Nursey's got him backed up against the wall yelling about penalty kills, and Dex can't tell which one of them moves and doesn't care, because one minutes they're going at it and the next Nursey's biting at his mouth, one hand fisted in the front of Dex's practice jersey, the other boxing him in tight. Dex has to fight to keep his knees from giving out. Nursey presses him in, all wet heat and teeth until Dex can feel his heart pounding all the way down to his fingertips. It _hurts_ , the way Nursey takes Dex's bottom lip between his teeth, and from the sounds Nursey makes when Dex grabs his hair and pulls, he's not exactly gentle either.

Dex is good at fighting back though, and this is a fight, no two ways about it. He digs his fingers into Nursey's shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, and bites back. The kisses turn slicker, Nursey's tongue and his lips and his weight burning through Dex like the forest fires he used to see on tv. He's so focused on the raw feeling of Nursey's stubble against his skin that he doesn't hear the door open or even realize anyone's standing there until Chowder gives an awkward cough.

"It's not what it looks like," says Dex, automatic, which is dumb. It's exactly what it looks like. Nursey still hasn't let go of his shirt and is instead standing there, chest heaving, like he's just run a marathon. His mouth is all red and swollen from where Dex has bitten it. Dex thinks, distantly, that it's a good look on him. 

"Sorry, sorry, I couldn't hear you guys yelling anymore and I had to check and make sure you hadn't killed each other because Jack would be _so pissed._ "  Chowder's face is bright red, and Dex thinks he just admitted to masterminding their closet imprisonment which would be more important information to have if he wasn't still feeling the ghost of Nursey's mouth on his jaw. Dex wonders just how long Chowder was standing there, and how far they would have gotten if he hadn't said anything. 

"Lets go play some hockey then," Nursey says, his eyes still glazed, and they troop back towards the rink together in blessed silence. 

**

The three of them are quiet throughout the whole team meeting, though they're still new enough that most of the team chalks it up to nerves and leaves it alone. Dex is all kinds of jumpy and awkward with Nursey though. He keeps thinking he's got to be giving himself away, that at any moment someone's going to notice the stubble burn and the way neither of them can look each other in the eye and somehow guess what went down. Except... the clock runs down and the pucks drops without anyone outing them, and suddenly coach is shouting for him and Nurse to get out on the ice. As they go over the boards Dex feels like he's watching himself play from outside his body. The whole period passes in this surreal haze. It's quiet enough on the blue line when he and Nursey aren't having a screaming match that Chowder can shout direction at them, and they follow without thinking. It's actually one of their better shifts, if not their best. They kill all the penalties that come their way, only one goal sneaking through on a tricky deflection and it's not even while they're on the ice. 

Before they know it the horn sounds the end of the third and they've done it. Samwell wins five to one, so close to a shutout that Dex can hardly see Chowder under the mountain of players hugging him. It's well deserved; Chowder made some really clutch saves, but Dex knows this is easily the best he's ever played. He searches for Nursey's face, his brain running on a litany of _holy shit_ and  _what was that, that was amazing_ and sees his own questions reflected back at him in Nursey's wide eyes.

_**_

"Coulda never done this without you guys," Chowder slurs happily. Chowder is a happy drunk, not that Dex was really expecting anything different. His head lolls onto Dex's shoulder where he and Nursey are propping Chowder up to try and wiggle the key into the door. 

"Seriously," Chowder continues mercilessly, "you guys played so great today! Like, really great. I'm so happy that you're friends again."

Dex stills, and beside him he can feel Nursey do the same. 

"We're always friends dude, never doubt it," Nursey says, soft. He's not looking at Dex. 

"Well then I'm glad you're friends with me," Chowder sighs. "I have such awesome friends. I love you guys."

"We've got your back," Dex agrees, and can't even find it in him to be angry when Chowder runs past his door and pukes in the restroom an hour before his alarm is set to go off. 

**

**

A cuddly drunken Chowder is a way more effective than any lecture in keeping this awkward new ceasefire between him and Nursey. It's a good deterrent; as much as they both chirp him, neither Dex or Nursey likes seeing Chowder unhappy. And so Dex tries not to engage, he really does. They mostly avoid each other and Nursey's chirps are so weak Shitty starts to look concerned. They try to stave off the arguments by never staying in the same room together for more than ten minutes and make it almost a whole week until Dex misses a pass during a particularly brutal practice and they're back where they started.

The next game looms. Dex thinks briefly of the storage room before firmly pushing that thought aside. Chowder is looking between them, anxious, and Dex shoots him his best encouraging smile.

Their line is a mess. Dex and Nursey's fantastic blowout leads to them letting in the game winning goal from a mishandled clearence. Everyone’s upset, but Dex thinks it's Chowder who takes the loss the hardest. Bitty has to physically restrain Jack from coming over to scold them a second time. It doesn't mean he's done with them though, and the next morning at the world's most awkward team breakfast Jack tells them Chowder spent the night in Bitty's room while Bitty stress-baked five dozen bran muffins.

"Those are muffins born from hate," Jack tells them, dead serious. "Those are hate muffins, baked in anger and disappointment. Maybe you can start working your way through them while you sort whatever this is out. Because you cannot, I repeat, _cannot_ , perform like that again. Do I make myself understood?"

"Yes Jack," they chorus, suitably chastised, and watch him steal the entire plate of grits before heading back upstairs.  

**

It takes two days and approximately sixteen hate muffins for Dex to screw up the courage to set things right. After practice he leans over to Nursey’s stall, trying not to look at Nursey or even look like he’s talking to Nursey, and says out of the corner of his mouth, “I’m not saying you’re right about the superstition thing, but we might need to try once more for data verification purposes.”

“Suuuure, _data verification_.” Nursey drawls, and Dex wants to punch him in his stupid smug mouth. With his mouth. Maybe. 

“Shut up, two is a terrible sample size and you know it." He concentrates on not falling over while he shuffles into his pants. "We need to apologize to Chowder though."

Nursey sighs and scrubs his hand across his face. "How do we even start?"

"I might actually have an idea," he says, and explains. The slow smile that unfurls across Nursey's face is a sight to behold.

"That's some pretty poetic justice, dude. Like, some real Comedy of Errors shit."

Dex rolls his eyes, "does that mean you're going to do it or not?"

"Like I'd be anywhere else," he says, slinging an arm around Dex's shoulders and dragging him out into the cold.

**

 

"Sorry sorry sorry," Chowder huffs, jogging up to the pile of leaves Nursey has half-buried himself in. There's a cutting chill to the wind today that says snow is on the way, and Dex shivers through his three layers of sweaters.

"It's cool man," says Nursey from beneath his leaf mountain. "Probably the last time I'll get to do this for awhile anyways."

"Look, Chowder...we're sorry. We acted like dicks."

"Totally, bro."

"We wanted to make it up to you, so, even though I don't exactly remember the terms of the bet, I hereby give you permission to collect on one wish from each of us at the time of your choosing."

"Anything?" Chowder squeaks.

"Whatever the fuck you want, whenever the fuck you decide you want it." Nursey agrees.

 "Okay. Okay, hold on, I'm not crying," Chowder wipes the his eyes on the pompoms of his hat. He's obviously crying a little. "Wait, Dex-I don't think you ever said, what superstition did you have anyways?"

**

The storage room door is unlocked. 

"Make sure you prop it open with something sturdy," Dex calls out right before Nursey reels him in and pins him against a supply crate.

"Wow. I definitely like being on this side of the door. This side of the door is the good side," Chowder says, breathless, and pulls up a chair. 

Nursey responds to that by putting on a show and dipping Dex, for which Dex bites him.

He could think of much, much worse rituals to have. 

**

Three games into Samwell's wining streak Chowder interrupts to ask a very important question. 

 "So, about that favor you promised.." 

Dex has to tip his head back against the cold of the wall and remember how to use his words. His breath comes in soft gasps of fog. 

"What about it?"

"Can I..." he makes to stand up. 

"The more the merrier," says Nursey, sounding wrecked. "Well, not really, but it's you so it's okay."

'You have such a way with words,' Dex starts to say, except his brain goes offline when Nursey draws Chowder in for a kiss and the words never quite make it out of his mouth. It's much gentler than how he is with Dex, and when he pulls back he looks him straight in the eye, like he's counting on Dex not fuck this up.

Dex takes his time; he works closed-mouthed, slow, Nursey's hands on his hips to steady him with Chowder stretched in between. It should be fantastically awkward to kiss your two best friends in an ass-freezing old storage room; Dex thinks it's centering. It's one of the few places he feels more calm than angry.

He's not surprised when Chowder gets a shutout, but it doesn't stop him or Nursey from crashing into him for a hug, the three of them spinning dizzily across the ice.  

**

"Y'all need to find me a clean spatula or get out of the kitchen," Bittle says, blowing past Dex and Nursey with a meat thermometer in each hand and a manic gleam in his eye that says he's not afraid to use them. It feels like stepping back in time right into the chaos of every Pointdexter gathering ever. Dex feels oddly homesick. 

"You looked like you could use some help bro, anything you need us to do?" Nursey holds his hands out like he's trying to bless Bitty with his chill vibes. It doesn't work: the laughter that bubbles from Bitty's mouth is tinged with hysteria.

"I need to get this turkey done so I can start on the pies-It's not Thanksgiving without pie- and there's heaps of potatoes to be peeled, and I don't even have a stand mixer- _Jack Laurant Zimmerman do not touch the rolls while they're rising!_ " Bittle shouts, brandishing the meat thermometer. Behind him, Chowder is anxiously shelling green beans, and it's the worried set to his mouth more than anything than has Dex grabbing  an apron from the apron drawer (the Haus has an apron drawer now, Jesus) and asking Bittle, "what fillings do you need?"

"Um. Two pumpkin, one peach and one apple for starters." He's staring at Dex as if he's grown a second head and Dex can feel his face getting red, before Nursey claps him on the shoulder and says, easy as you please, "great, I can handle the potatoes then, and Bitty can handle the turkey."

"I, yeah. Recipe cards are in the cupboard over the microwave."

Twenty minutes later, hands covered in flour, Dex is methodically mixing cinnamon and sugar and more butter than he'd care to ingest as Bittle calls out instruction from his post next to the oven. It's not quite home, but the way Bitty's eyes are glued to the cooking turkey, the sounds of the parade floating in from the living room, the guys all taking turns trying to mash an enormous vat of potatoes, it's familiar. It would be easy for this to be home, if Dex wanted.  

He looks over at Chowder and Nursey, laughing at something Holster's showing them on his phone, and thinks _yeah, I want_. 

** 

"Smile boys, this is going on the internet!" 

Nursey's draped over his back, one hand twined in Dex's hair, and his breath comes in warm gusts against his neck. Chowder's on his other side, one hand quietly resting on the small of Dex's back. He knows exactly what his brothers would be saying right now, and for once he doesn't give a fuck. It feels good being crowded between them- Dex has barely seen them all day and he's missed them, not that he'd ever say it aloud. He sheepishly holds the last pie- Bitty's famous peach recipe- up to the camera, just as Shitty bursts through the door behind them shouting something profane. 

"Happy Thanksgiving!" says Chowder and Nursey gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. 

"BACK IN TIME FOR REAL FUCKING THANKSGIVING" Shitty shouts from the entryway, which distracts everyone long enough for Dex to kiss them back. 

He feels lucky.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> The thing about the flares and the cows can be found [here ](http://www.dumblaws.com/laws/united-states/pennsylvania).  
> The Islanders superstition is also actually [true](http://bleacherreport.com/articles/1763583-the-10-weirdest-superstitions-of-nhl-players/page/6).
> 
> Come say hi on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/lostlenore2)


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